Rockefeller U. Anxious as Leader Feels Pain of Science-Fraud Case

By NATALIE ANGIER

Published: April 1, 1991

The recent disclosure that crucial research data had been fabricated in a scientific report signed by Dr. David Baltimore not only damaged the reputation of the Nobel laureate and eminent biologist. It has also left a trail of anger, uncertainty and anxiety at Rockefeller University, which hired him as president in 1989.

Considered one of the nation's best scientists and scientific administrators, Dr. Baltimore was brought to Rockefeller by a Board of Trustees eager to restore the university to its position as the nation's premier biomedical research institute, the place where scientists discovered the importance of DNA and first detected cancer genes.

And as the drama of Dr. Baltimore unfolds, many scientists and administrators are concerned about how much damage the scandal will do to the university. "It's very sad, and it's a terrible distraction," said Dr. James Darnell, vice president of the university. "I just wish it hadn't happened."

The revelations about the research fabrications, which occurred years before Dr. Baltimore was hired at Rockefeller, could not come at a worse time for the university on Manhattan's Upper East Side. The institution, for graduate students only, has traditionally relied less on Federal research grants than do many other major universities. Recently, it has been dipping into its $450 million endowment to pay its bills. As a result, it is about $75 million poorer today than it was a decade ago.

To help shore up its finances, the university is about to begin one of its biggest fund-raising drives and can ill afford the bad publicity.

With so much at stake in the crisis, university administrators and researchers are viewing the Baltimore case with a complex mixture of sadness, sarcasm and indignation. "There's a lot of strong emotion, every kind of emotion you can imagine," said Dr. Gunter Blobel, a cell biologist at Rockefeller. "And the feelings you have today will probably be completely different tomorrow."

Perhaps the most overwhelmed of all is Dr. Baltimore himself. "I regret the whole thing," he said in an interview.

The issue involves a scientific paper that was published in the journal Cell in May 1986. The paper described findings suggesting that transplanted genes could stimulate a recipient's immune system to produce certain antibodies. Had it been confirmed, the discovery would have been a significant advance in immunology.

Although neither Dr. Baltimore nor members of his lab have been accused of committing fraud, a Federal panel concluded last month that research data used in the paper were fabricated by one of Dr. Baltimore's collaborators, Dr. Thereza Imanishi-Kari, now at Tufts University in Boston.

The report, issued by the Office of Scientific Integrity at the National Institutes of Health, condemned Dr. Baltimore's handling of the case over the last five years, accusing him of brushing off allegations of fraud. The report also said it was "difficult to comprehend" why he continued to defend Dr. Imanishi-Kari as evidence mounted that her data were false.

Dr. Baltimore says he must examine the new evidence in more detail before deciding whether fraud was committed, but he has reacted to the report by asking that the Cell paper be retracted. Work in Dispute Done Elsewhere

Rockefeller scientists are also quick to point out that the work in dispute and the subsequent struggle over that work all took place elsewhere, mainly at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and in Washington, where Dr. Baltimore had loudly defended Dr. Imanishi-Kari against Congressional inquiries.

"I hope people realize that this had nothing to do with Rockefeller," said Dr. Bruce McEwen, the new dean of graduate studies. "The incident took place somewhere else, in the past, and I hope we won't be victims of the fallout."

Even so, some senior faculty members who had opposed the selection of Dr. Baltimore because of the cloud over his collaborator's work are now more distressed than ever by his conduct, and what they think it says about his ability to lead the university.

They say he was obstinate in his defense of Dr. Imanishi-Kari even when doubts about her work mounted, and that he did not take seriously enough the warnings of Dr. Margot O'Toole, a postdoctoral fellow in Dr. Imanishi-Kari's laboratory, that the results reported in the paper did not jibe with 17 pages in a key laboratory notebook.

"I feel sadly vindicated," said Dr. Blobel, among the third of the Rockefeller professors who had originally opposed Dr. Baltimore's nomination as president. "We'd had concern about Baltimore being involved in an unsettled affair; we felt he hadn't handled it right, and that's why we told the Board of Trustees, don't do it. The board decided to ignore our recommendations, so it will have to live with their actions and the outcome."

The critics also blame Dr. Baltimore for having turned the affair into, as one put it, a "cause celebre," by asking other scientists to join him in denouncing the interference of Congress into scientific matters.